


how to feel better

by thingswithwings



Category: MythBusters RPF, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Chromatic Character, Gen, Multi, Sentinel/Guide, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the AU where Jamie and Grant are both Sentinels. Or IS IT an AU?</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to feel better

"Well, I don't know what you need me for," Jamie says. "You have a guide. You have two guides."

"Yeah, because you never hit any bumps in the road with your guide," Grant snorts. "Anyway, they're still being trained." He's still got the blindfold on, but Jamie can see him turning his head to speak directly at Jamie; at least his senses are working well enough that he can tell where people are in the room without seeing them.

"That's not really my problem."

Grant sighs. From fifteen feet away, Jamie can tell that he had pizza for lunch, that he's got a cut on the inside of his lip, that his mouth is dry. When he speaks, his voice has changed its timbre just a little. "C'mon, Jamie, don't tell me that when you first found out about this, you didn't wish there was someone else who'd been through it to, to show you the ropes."

When Jamie first found out about this, he was fifteen, alone in the woods near his grandfather's farm, and there had been no one around for miles. It's the nature of the thing – no one ever finds out unless they're already alone. Jamie uncrosses his arms and allows his own senses to sharpen in on Grant a little more, watching the minute changes in the skin tension around Grant's mouth, feeling for his body temperature.

Jamie frowns. "Are you upset or something?"

Grant reaches up and tears off the blindfold, throws it on the ground. "Yes, Jamie, thank you, thank god you have superpowers, yes, I'm upset. I'm – I spend a couple days doing the background for a birdwatching myth by myself, birdwatching, and just because Tory's sick that day and Kari's busy refining silver in the shop, all of a sudden I'm – I – " he pauses, takes a deep breath. Grant never gets mad at people; this is weird. Uncertain, Jamie walks over to where Grant is sitting next to the workbench and pulls up a stool next to him.

"You'll get it under control. It's only been three weeks and you can already tell where I am in the room even with your blindfold on."

"But I can't – I can't ever stop knowing where you are in the room. I can't turn it off."

Jamie tries a smile. "Sucks, don't it?"

Grant laughs a little. "Yeah, it really does."

As a kid, Jamie ran from Indiana to San Francisco; he ran from college to the Caribbean; he ran from job to job, trying to get further away from other people, the noise and smell and messiness of them, till he ran out of places to go and Adam brought him back here. He's kind of surprised at how much he doesn't want that for Grant.

"Look," he tries. "It's not so bad. I got through it okay, all you have to do is learn to focus. Pretty soon it'll seem normal."

Grant looks up at him shrewdly. "How old were you when you, uh," he waves a hand vaguely.

He hesitates, not sure how to tell that story.

"We call it 'coming online,'" Adam says, from the doorway. "And Jamie was fifteen."

Jamie shrugs his agreement. He listens to Adam as he comes further into the room, the unique twist of the right foot in his stride, the way he rubs his index and middle fingers together, his rapid eyeblinks. It's comforting.

Grant nods. "So, it's been almost forty years. Does it seem normal yet?"

Jamie gives him a grin. "Sure!"

Stepping up beside them, Adam snorts. "Listen, Grant, Kari and Tory are still being trained as guides, but I think it's time to get the three of you together. Give you something to work with other than the world's least sensitive sentinel here."

"Hey," Jamie says, with some feeling. Grant's body temperature goes down a notch, and the tension around his mouth eases a bit.

"Jamie's okay," Grant says, clapping Jamie on the shoulder in a friendly way, then jerking back, surprised. He glares at the palm of his hand like it's betrayed him.

"It'll take you like that sometimes," Jamie says, recognizing Grant's reaction for what it is. "Flare up. I remember when I was a kid, I'd suddenly be able to feel – " he presses his lips together for a second, then goes on. "Everything, I guess. Like I could tell apart the individual, uh, molecules in things, even."

"I'm almost forty," Grant says.

Adam grins at him. "Like Jamie said. Still a kid. You'll get used to it."

"And hey, just think of the kinds of robots you can build," Jamie adds. "Once you get your sense of touch under control."

There's a gleam in Grant's eye at that, and it must be pretty obvious, since even without any superpowers it Adam sees something that makes him throw back his head and laugh.

"That's the spirit," Adam says. "Now get back to work on that orange peel explosion thing, okay? We're already way behind our production deadlines. Jamie, I need you to come and tell me whether I've got the black powder mixed in the right proportions."

"Call me if you need me," Jamie says to Grant, standing up to leave.

"Thanks, Jamie," Grant says.

Jamie's met other sentinels before, but never really known any, worked with any, and certainly hasn't been friends with any. He's only ever had himself, and then, after a long time alone, he had Adam.

He licks his lips, then offers his hand, holding it out in the cool air between them. Grant takes it slowly, meeting his eyes. Jamie can feel the warmth of the individual blood vessels, the little involuntary muscle movements beneath the skin, and he holds on for a little while, till he knows Grant is coming aware of those things, too. Until they're aware of each other.

"You're welcome," Jamie says, and he thinks he means it.


End file.
